


Soccer To Me

by lil_1337



Series: Morning After [14]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, Humor, M/M, Team sports, sexual innuendo, soft sweet boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: Quatre meets some of Trowa’s friends and learns a new skill.  Set within the Morning After Universe.  Takes place before ‘When Quatre Met Cathy’.





	Soccer To Me

Quatre blinked as he stepped out of the music building into the sun. The storm that had soaked the campus for the last few days had finally dissipated leaving an unseasonably beautiful fall day that was crisp and clear; a final tease before the cold set in for good. Moving over to the side of the sidewalk to let other people go by he dug through his backpack for his much neglected sunglasses. He had just settled them on his nose when his phone chirped letting him know he had a text message.   
He grinned when he saw that it was from Trowa. 

The relationship was still new, barely a month old, and just seeing Trowa’s name pop up was enough to make a cloud of butterflies erupt in Quatre’s stomach. It was fresh and comfortable at the same time, something his relationship with Darren had never been. 

The time stamp showed that the message had been sent forty minutes prior, but held in limbo because of a do not disturb block he had in place for when he was in class. Only three people, Iria, Rashid, and his father, were exempted from it.   
Someday Trowa might be on that list too, but not yet. Quatre might not be able control the butterflies or the way his body responded to Trowa’s touch, but he could be cautious about how much of his life he let Trowa into. Quatre might have jumped into having sex with Trowa, something he absolutely did not regret, but he had learned his lesson about letting all his guards down at once. 

_Pick up game on the mall. Meet me there? We can get lunch after._

Quatre tucked the phone in his pocket and headed in the direction of the large grass area in the center of campus. There was no point in responding since it was very likely that Trowa wouldn’t see it. Even if he had his phone on him the last thing Quatre wanted to do was to interrupt the game. Plus, there was a part of him that wanted to see Trowa in his element without him knowing Quatre was there. It would give Quatre a chance to see if his Trowa was the same as the one he showed the rest of the world. He felt guilty for wondering, but experience had taught him, and not so kindly, that there was a world of people who pretended to care, but only when you were there to see it.

Underneath the nerves though was a thread of white hot excitement. Quatre had seen Trowa hot and sweaty quite a few times, but he’d never had the chance to see him playing soccer. They generally met later in the evening for dinner and then spent the evening and, often, the night together. Watching a game was something he had been looking forward to. There were a lot of things that Quatre found incredibly attractive about his boyfriend and his athleticism was right under his thoughtfulness, intelligence, and sense of humor. 

Just thinking about it made Quatre speed up, anticipation, and his libido, egging him on. 

The mall was on the other side of campus, but he made it there in record time. The soccer players had taken over a quarter of the grassy area near the entrance to the cafeteria. Off to one side there was a haphazard pile of backpacks, shoes, sports bags, and textbooks. Quatre dropped down to sit cross legged next to them, setting his bag next to him. 

Within a moment he spotted Trowa dribbling the ball down the makeshift field. He dodged, this way and that, passing the ball then having it passed back to him. At the goal he dribbled for a minute then broke left before immediately reversing back to the right, kicking the ball while the goalie struggled to keep up. The ball bounced off the curb that served as a net and a cheer went up causing several groups that were studying or chatting nearby to turn and look, some frowning and others clearly amused or appreciative of the view. 

Shamelessly Quatre let his gaze wander over Trowa’s wide shoulders and strong abs, grateful that Trowa had stripped his shirt off at some point during the game. The man was as tasty as the first cup of coffee on an icy winter morning and he was definitely as good at heating Quatre up. With the added bonus of not requiring Quatre to get out of bed. 

Trowa’s bangs were held back on his head with what appeared to be a clip or ponytail holder exposing his whole face. Quatre felt a twinge in his gut, part desire and part a need to pull Trowa’s hair loose so that no one else could see him so completely open.

Laughing ruefully at himself Quatre let his eyes drift over the players. His gaze was drawn back to Trowa almost immediately no matter how much he tried to force himself not to. There was something about him that made him stand out even in crowd of equally fit and attractive young men. Then again it might just have been Quatre’s bias showing. After all he was bound to be particularly fond of the man whose body his fingertips and tongue were in the happy process of memorizing. The same man who had made Quatre breakfast that morning without demanding any kind of social interaction until he was fully awake and able to form coherent sentences. 

The game continued for the better part of an hour and Trowa’s team scored more three goals to the other team’s two. One of those was scored by Trowa and Quatre was surprised to find himself enthralled and completely invested in the outcome. He had never been interested in team sports before, preferring activities like running and swimming where he could focus on his own body and what it was doing. It was a good brain break from the constant collaboration the rest of his life required. But he was beginning to understand how someone might be swept away by it. 

When the game broke up Trowa and two of the other players wandered towards where Quatre was sitting. They were laughing and cheering, apparently reveling in their win. As the three of them made their way towards the remaining bags and backpacks Quatre got to his feet, brushing grass off the seat of his pants. 

He tried to suppress the nervous twinge bubbling up inside of him. So far Trowa had been open and honest about his affections, but that had been in front of people he knew well or didn’t care about. This was different and Quatre shifted into his polite mode, prepared to protect himself if necessary. 

“Hey.” Trowa reached for Quatre’s hand, pulling him close enough to draw him into a kiss. He smelled of sweat and grass and feel of him made all of Quatre’s non-carnal thoughts flee.

“Is that Tro’s boyfriend?” The voice cut through the haze of lust, drawing Quatre’s attention. 

“He better be.” There was an undertone that carried a threat. Not of violence, but censure and deep disappointment.

The kiss broke slowly and Trowa pulled away, turning to the two men waiting patiently. “Andy, Gene, this is Quatre.”   
“Quatre, Andy and Gene.” 

Smiling, Quatre shook hands with each one in turn. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Same.” Gene, a tall lanky black man, shot Trowa a look then grinned. “I guess I owe you coffee now.” 

Andy laughed, then noting Quatre’s confused look pointed to a bulky latinx man walking the other way down field. “Raph’s been trying to set Trowa up with his brother for three years. Tro keeps saying he doesn’t date so when he said he had a boyfriend we figured you were a figment of his imagination.”

Quatre nodded, a smirk growing on his face. “In that case I think you owe me coffee.” 

“Dude, I’m a poor student, you’re gonna have to get Trowa to share with you.” 

“Nope, it’s mine. I won the bet.” Trowa grinned at Quatre, leaning in for a kiss despite the raised eyebrow aimed in his direction.

“Now that we know you’re real you should come play soccer with us.” Gene offered, moving towards the backpacks. “We can always use more guys.” 

“Thank you.” Quatre could feel the nervous tension return in a flash. “But I wouldn’t be much help, I’ve never played soccer.”   
“Seriously?” Andy’s mouth gaped open as if he was a character in a screwball comedy. “Never? How do you get to college without ever playing soccer?” 

“How do you end up dating Trowa if you don’t play soccer?” Gene chimed in seemly just as shocked. Dude, we’ve got to fix this.” He dropped to the ground and unzipped an overstuffed gym bag. “What size shoes do you wear?” 

“Nine.” Quatre looked questioning at Trowa. He shrugged slightly then smiled, obviously not worried about what was happening, but leaving any decision up to Quatre. A pair of sneakers landed at Quatre’s feet and he frowned.

“They’re nine and half, but they should work for now. You’re gonna want to get a pair of your own though. It fucks up your feet if you use ones that don’t fit for very long.” From the far end of the bag he extracted a ball and set it down. 

Bemused, Quatre dropped back onto the grass and slipped out of his loafers before putting on the sneakers. They were a bit big, but comfortable besides that.

Once he was back on his feet Gene kicked the ball to Andy. “Footwork is first. Once you can handle the ball we’ll move on to other stuff.” 

“He knows how to ball handle already.” Trowa grinned, shooting Gene a smug look.

“Dude? Really? That’s your boyfriend.” Andy tossed the ball at Trowa who deftly returned it with a bounce of his head.  
“So I should know.” Andy shook his head, not aware of the promise laden look that Quatre shot his boyfriend.

Andy kicked the ball to Gene who kicked it gently to Quatre demonstrating the correct way to control where it went. After about five minutes Gene announced it was time to try dribbling. Starting with a slow walk and finally working up to an easy jog. Quatre’s first pass went past Andy who jogged after it returning it to the rotation.

“I’m sorry.” Quatre could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Not embarrassing Trowa was important and he was messing up.   
“You’re doing good. Way better than I did my first time.” 

“Thank you.” Quatre let a little relief show in his voice then refocused his attention, kicking the ball towards Gene this time. Distracted for a moment he missed the kick and had to chase the ball down. 

Quatre grimaced, his embarrassment rising. “Sorry.” 

“Dude, that was perfect, right to me. I whiffed it not you. You’re catching on quicker than I thought you would. You have a good sense of where your feet are.” 

“Years of fencing and dancing.” Quatre caught the ball Gene sent back his way before passing it to Trowa. “I had a dance teacher would make you do an hour of footwork drills if he caught you watching your feet.” 

Andy laughed then shook his head. “Sounds like my soccer coach in middle school. The guy was brutal.” 

“Footwork, footwork, footwork.” Trowa, Gene, Andy chanted in unison laughing as they did. 

They made it to the far end of the field before Gene called a halt. “I really don’t want to go to class, but I missed once this week already.” Turning to Quatre, ball tucked safely under his arm, he grinned. “We’re here most days, if it's not raining or snowing.” 

“Or finals.” Andy added.

“Yeah.” Gene made a face in agreement. “Anytime you want to practice just come on by. If we’re not here Raph will help you. Same with Mike and Jules.” 

“Stay away from Danny though, he’s an asshole.” 

“Hell of a goalie, but still an asshole. Shouldn’t be anywhere near newbies though.” 

“Or people in general.” Trowa muttered from Quatre’s other side.

Quatre suppressed the urge to grin. “I’ll remember that.” 

It only took Quatre a minute to change out of the borrowed sneakers and back into his shoes. Grinning, he thanked Andy and Gene again before they took off in different directions. He shouldered his backpack while Trowa did the same then turned to face him.

“What do you think? Should I get a soccer ball and some shoes?”

“That’s up to you.” Trowa threaded his fingers through Quatre’s as they headed in the direction of the cluster of independent food sellers not far from the cafeteria. “I’ll be happy to teach you and so would the other guys, but only if you want to.” 

“Except Danny.” 

Trowa snorted. “Danny’s good, but he can’t teach you anything that you can’t learn from someone else and practicing.” 

“You’re my favorite person to practice ball handling with.” Quietly and with more seriousness he added. “Thank you for introducing me to your friends. It means a lot.” 

Trowa stopped, frowning. “They’re just guys I play soccer with, not friends really.” 

Quatre stepped closer, his hand resting lightly on Trowa’s arm. “People you’ve played soccer with a lot for three years. People who know you’re gay and that you don’t date.” 

“Didn’t date.” 

The smile on Quatre’s face brightened and he nodded. “Right, didn’t date. People who want to meet your boyfriend and make the effort to be kind to someone because they are important to you are friends.” 

“Maybe.” He frowned, carefully considering Quatre’s words. After a moment he shrugged. Tugging Quatre with him Trowa started walking again. “I’ll think about that. Right now I want to eat lunch with my _boyfriend_ and maybe go shopping.”


End file.
